HONORABLE MENTION, 2018 LAUX/MILLAR POETRY PRIZE BAILEY COHEN
Four Sonnets after John i. Despite my invisibility my feet still feel heavy when I move them across the mudded snow all browned and made disgraceful like the snow I am disgraceful I eat only when fed and never for myself John taught me how to cut herbs how to fold them unto themselves and chop finely placing one hand on the back of the knife and rocking back and forth he still sees me and I am glad for this I am trying to appreciate more and more to celebrate such small things like the way fresh sage must float in the air like mistletoe when I swallow it gently how dedicated & longing these plants must be to not just awaken but rise even when brought down first by wet snow then by my large and stumbling feet ii. Drifting dutifully now I hover like a bee surrounded by a devoid of flowers surrounded by queens glazed in honey John stirred honey into the mug that I handed him full of vigor and what once was water like a bee I limit my drifting to only short distances I move from grass blade to grass blade and am celebrated by no one for this effort I think in terms of menial tasks & hexagons fuck whenever I want to & always in an anthology of gardens and beautiful things I stand triumphant & ashamed what use is recovery when there is no home to return to I hover like so many other beautiful hovering things but I still hover Oh John I miss you something awful your too sweet honey and springtime passivity 58 | Raleigh Review
